Enough to Love You
by Cat in Disguise
Summary: It was just another chase around the streets of Ikebukuro, just another underhanded trick from Izaya. But . . . he never meant for this to happen. Not ever.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is . . . I honestly don't know where this came from. It just sort came to me**

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A vending machine made impact with the pavement inches from Izaya's heels, the ground shuddering from the force of the landing. Izaya grinned, leaping easily over the next item hurled at his face with an airy laugh.

"Now, now, Shizu-chan, let's not get ahead of ourselves! You nearly hit me that time!" The blond tore another signpost from the ground, several veins throbbing in his temple as he tried to suppress his rage.

"If you don't want to be hit . . ." He tore the sign clear from the ground, the metal bending easily in his death grip. "Then stay the hell out of Ikebukuro!" With that final word, the ex-bartender hurled the post as hard as he could at the smaller man. Once again, Izaya dodged easily, his usual smug grin spreading across his face. Shizu-chan was always so fun to stir up, he thought in delight. As the post clattered to the pavement, he landed easily next to it, bowing deeply to his constant assailant. By now, the anger rolling off the other man was nearly palpable. Out of the corner of his half-closed eyes, Izaya saw the fist preparing to make contact with his bowed head. Before it could reach its target, he danced away, his grin stretching as he clapped in the most sarcastic way possible.

"You have to try a bit harder than that, Shi – zu – chan." He deliberately drew out every syllable of the blonde's name, watching his quiver in barely suppressed fury. One last little nudge, Izaya knew, and he'd be over the edge. So he leaned forward, slipping his fingers into his pocket to clasp his trademark flick blade, and blew his pursuer a kiss. He could practically hear Shizuo's sanity snap in two. Several veins pulsed in his forehead, his hands trembling as they clenched into fists.

"Izaya-kuuuuuuuuuun~" His voice, laced with bone-melting anger, sent terrified chills down Izaya's spine. Slowly, he backed away from the ex-bartender, raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender.

"Now, now, Shizu-chan, let's not do something we may regret later." As he spoke, Shizuo approached him slowly, not bothering to rip anything up to hurl at the smaller man. Instead, he walked slowly and deliberately towards the informant, shades glinting in the fading sunlight. Mere feet from the other, he stopped, inhaled deeply, and snarled just loud enough for his target to hear.

"You're a dead man." Izaya's eyes widened as the man charged forward. He leapt into an alleyway at the last moment and began to sprint, glancing back over his shoulder every once in a while. Despite the obvious threat of death and the tremors still rolling down his spine, Izaya grinned like a madman, laughing softly.

"That's it, Shizu-chan. Lose your mind, lose yourself to the madness of your hatred for me." He urged from under his breath, his tone mocking, and full of twisted satisfaction. Half of a metal sign embedded itself into the wall next to his face, and he laughed louder, increasing his pace. Risking several things at once, he jumped on top of a dumpster, staring back down the alley and calling out to his pursuer. "Catch me if you can, Shizu-chan!"

When he heard the distinct sound of metal making contact with concrete drawing closer, he leapt off his perch and continued to streak down the narrow passage. After several more seconds, the alley opened into a larger sidewalk that leads to one of the busiest streets in the area. It also happened to be the same street Izaya had led Shizuo down twice before. He rounded the corner, slowing up so the blond could see where he had gone. As he passed under the wrought-iron arch that sat suspended between two buildings, he grinned again, turning around once again to witness the event as it happened. Shizuo would be in the right spot at any moment. He grinned again, letting his crimson eyes slide momentarily down the road to watch the truck. In that split second, his expression morphed from delight to horror.

The truck was going too fast. Even from this distance, he could hear unsuspecting drivers swerve off the road out of the truck's way. If it hit someone at that speed . . . even if it was Shizu-chan . . . He didn't have time to think. He could now clearly see sunlight glinting off the front windows. Any second now, the truck would make impact.

"Shizu-chan, stop!" The world slowed down as he sprinted into the vehicle's path, pushing as hard as he possibly could against Shizuo's chest to get him out of the way. The ex-bartender's expression changed to confusion, his gaze falling to the right towards the truck. Within a millisecond, his expression became one of solemn understanding. But what he did next was something Izaya would have never predicted in his life. He wrapped his arms around his enemy's small frame and turned so his back was to the truck. Confusion merged with the terror pulsing through the informant's blood, and he weakly tried to pull himself away. In response, Shizuo gripped him even tighter, pressing the trembling form against his powerful chest. Just before the impact, Izaya heard a soft whisper in his ear.

"It'll be okay."

The truck collided full-force with Shizuo's spine.

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**Should I keep this as a one-shot, or do you want to know what happened next? Let me know. **

**Constructive criticism is welcome, flames will be used to make s'mores.**

**bye!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Holy crap! I've never seen any of my stories blow up this fast before. So, as promised, here's the second chapter of Enough to Love You. Enjoy!**

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_The truck collided full-force with Shizuo's spine._

Both of them lurched forward slightly, Izaya crying out as he felt Shizuo's arms tighten impossibly further. Somehow, Shizuo righted himself, entire body swying for a brief moment before collapsing forward. Just in time, Izaya squirmed to the side so he would't hit the asphalt. The moment they hit the ground, he felt Shizuo's grip loosen again, enough for Izaya to slide forward and see the truck.

The driver had disappeared somewhere, and the front of the vehicle was completely caved in, smoke rising from the metal. Izaya smirked before twisting his arms out of the brute's grasp and ruffling the surprisingly soft hair.

"You really made a mess of that thing, didn't you, Shizu-chan? And you did it to protect me! I knew Shizu-chan cared for me after a-" He stopped when he noticed that Shizuo still hadn't responded. He should have been awake and pissed at him by now, chasing him down with the remains of the truck. So why . . ?

"Shizu-chan?" He placed his hand on the blond's shoulder and shook him softly. "Hey, Shizu-chan. Hey." He shook him harder, panic rising in his gut. He should be awake by now. He should be conscious by now. Something like this shouldn't keep him down for so long. So why hadn't he woken up yet?

"Hey, stop being an idiot, Shizu-chan. Wake up!" By now, fear had replaced the panic, making his stomach churn. "Get up!" Tears prickled at the edges of his vision. Why was he crying? He couldn't find an answer right now, his thoughts were too scattered.

"Shizu-chan, get up! Get up! Please!" He began trembling, the tears now flowing freely. Almost delirious with fear and desperation, he dug into his pockets for his phone. When he didn't find it, he wriggled out of the other man's arms and sprinted over to the place on the sidewalk he'd been standing, scanning the ground. He didn't see in anywhere, so he started back towards Shizuo, only to freeze, eyes wide in horror.

A pool of blood had formed underneath Shizuo, staining his shirt crimson. Without thinking, Izaya rushed forward and dropped to his knees next to the blond. Fingers trembling, he removed the shreds of the shirt from the ex-bartender.

Deep, long gouges ran across nearly every inch of his skin, each wound still seeping blood. Where the skin hand't broken, black and purple bruises had formed in ugly splotches which were the most prominent around his spinal cord. "No . . ."

One of the very few remaining spectators, who could see the damage from the safety of inside a cafe, had managed to have the consciousness to draw out his cell phone during the shock of the entire event, and finally opened the device.

_What is your emergency? _The man took in a shuddering breath before speaking.

"We . . . we need an ambulance. Right away."

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"Orihara-san?" A gentle hand shook his shoulder, waking him from the light doze he had slipped into. At first, he blinked blearily, disoriented from sleepiness and the lingering shock of the previous event. Everything came flooding back in an instant: the chase, the truck, the deep wounds . . . He shot to his feet, crimson eyes wide and trained on the doctor next to him.

"What happened? Is everything all right?!" The man blinked momentarily, looking a bit startled at the sudden outburst, but settled immediately back into a professional expression.

"The surgery is still in progress, so we don't know much for right now, but he is fine. I just needed to ask you a few questions about him." Izaya opened his mouth to protest against this. He'd said this so many times that he thought it would be painfully obvious where he stood with the matter. He hated talking about Shizu-chan, hated the fact that he had to learn about the brute so he could avoid him. He hated saying anything related to him, so he didn't.

Almost as if sensing his mental dilemma, the doctor continued on in a gentler, borderline caring tone. "Just a few simple questions is all. Knowing the answers to them may very well help save his life." For a split second, Izaya could swear he felt his heart stop. If he didn't answer, then Shizu-chan would most likely die from his injuries, but if he did answer, then he may live. He sighed heavily, sitting back down on the chair he'd leapt out of a few moments ago.

"What do you need to know?" The doctor smiled, bringing up his clipboard and uncapping his pen

"Can you tell me his blood type?"

"Ah, yeah, it's type O." _We have the same blood type. _He found himself thinking. The fact had come up during one of his discussions with Shinra, something so trivial he'd forgotten for a while. The only reason he remembered now was because he'd found it embarrassing to have something in common with the ex-bartender.

"Is there anything he may be allergic to?" Izaya laughed softly.

"No." Shizu-chan wouldn't be so pathetic as to be allergic to something. The doctor nodded again, scribbling on the sheet of paper.

"Anything else you can tell me about him that may serve a medical purpose?" This was becoming annoying. Why did he have to answer these stupid questions that served no purpose? And yet, for some infuriating reason, the doctor insisted on pressing onward. "Or anything that we may want to know later?"

_Yes, I can. _The info broker found himself thinking fiercely.

_I'm a little shorter than he is, so he has to lean down slightly to touch his forehead to mine; he weighs just a bit more than I do, but can still pick me up without a problem; his hair is really blond because he bleached it as a type of warning to gangs; he likes sweets and milk, particularly flavored, and he lives up to his name very poorly but can surprisingly be very gentle and caring - _His thoughts halted when he realized the doctor was staring at him again, this time looking more taken aback than frightened. As he looked around, he saw the people at the front desk staring at him as well. Izaya felt his face flush bright red. Had he just said all that out loud?

The doctor in front of him had recovered from the initial shock, and finished scribbling down the random facts in the next few moments, checking them over with a small nod.

"One last question if you don't mind, Orihara-san. Can you tell me your relation with Heiwajima-san?" He stared at that question. How was he supposed to answer that? HE couldn't just say that they had hated each other from the moment they had met. Is there even a phrase for something like that?

"Are you his lover?"

Izaya flushed again, but a much deeper red, accompanied by a tingly heat all over his body.

"Wha- n-no, I'm not his - "Izaya had finally recovered from the shock of being _held_ by the brute, but now someone had the _audacity _to mistake them as _lovers?! _

"But you do care for him a great deal, yes?" Izaya opened his mouth to protest again, only to close it again. Did he . . . care for Shizu-chan? He'd never considered that as a possibility. But he'd saved Shizuo's life, his _archenemy's _life. Why would he . . ?

"I'm . . . we're . . . " His slender shoulders relaxed as he reached the decision for his answer.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." Once again the doctor nodded, pulling out something that Izaya recognized as a pager and then returning to their discussion.

"Thank you for your help, Orihara-san. Would you like to see Heiwajima-san? He's out of surgery now." For what felt like the millionth time that day, Izaya's breath caught in his throat. See Shizu-chan just after he'd had a surgery for injuries _he _was responsible for? More than likely, Shizu-chan would blame him and try to tear him open just like Izaya had done with his underhanded tactics.

"Yeah."

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**Yes, there will be a chapter three. It'll be shorter than the first two, more than likely, but there will be three**

**Constructive criticism is welcome, flames will be used to make s'mores.**

**bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Holy crap! I've never seen any of my stories blow up this fast before. So, as promised, here's the second chapter of Enough to Love You. Enjoy!**

* * *

_"Thank you for your help, Orihara-san. Would you like to see Heiwajima-san? He's out of surgery now." _

_"Yeah."_

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing that filled the uncomfortable silence in the hospital room. Izaya shifted self-consciously in his chair next to the bed, not sure how to begin or even if Shizu-chan would hear him. He'd been told that the surgery had been successful, but not if they had woken him up after the surgery concluded.

"Shizu-chan . . ."

"Shizu-chan . . . I never . . . " He stopped again, clenching his hands into fists before pressing onward. He needed to say this. Even if it wouldn't convey everything carving away the inner walls of his consciousness, he could at least say this much.

"I never . . . meant for this to happen. It was just supposed to be the same procedure as the last two times, but the man I hired . . . h-he had a grudge against you that I dismissed because I thought it wouldn't be t-that severe . . . Guess I miscalculated." A soft laugh managed to work its way out of the shaky, guilty tone his voice had taken on during the course of his sentence, but still came out weak. As he continued, his tone became increasingly weak and desperate

"So just . . . don't blame me . . . for this . . . because it was that guy who -" He cut himself off again as the dramatic irony of his statement hit him square in the gut. The reality of the situation was, that he should bethe one Shizu-chan pinned the blame on. Yes, the man he had hired for the job had just so happened to have a severe grudge against the blond, and that had lead to this predicament. But it had been _him _who had hired the man. So, this entire thing . . . was his fault. He relaxed his fingers from their fists, raising them to draw his jacket tighter around himself as chills began to run all over his skin. Once again, hot tears began to trickle down his face.

"Just . . . forgive me. If you can do that, at the very least, I can move on from this incident with a clear conscious. So please . . ." He began sobbing at this point, body shuddering and tears falling on the floor.

"Please . . . forgive me . . ." At last, the tears stopped, and he was able to straighten out of his seat. Taking a long, shuddering breath, he wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve as he shrugged it back onto his shoulders. After managing to make himself look at least a little less hysterical, he settled back into the seat, rubbing his face until the remainder of the excess moisture vanished from his eyes. He opened his eyes again, and they instantaneously widened.

Shizu-chan was awake, his golden-brown orbs trained on Izaya's crimson ones.

"Hey." Guilt rose once again in his chest, winding around his heart, threatening to crush it at any moment. Refusing to face it, the info broker looked away. He should say something, anything, to ease the painful sensation. He should say something to apologize for being responsible for nearly ending his life, he should-

"Thank you." The iron coil crushed his heart, forcing a strangled sound from his mouth. His shoulders tensed as he willed the knot out of his windpipe, questions rising in his mind, gathering his clustered emotions along with them. At last, the knot worked its way free, and he could speak.

"Why? Why are you thanking me? You nearly _died _because of me!" He began trembling again, but from frustration or grief, he couldn't tell. The brute just _had _to be such a _moron _all the time. Izaya, the man who had been trying to _kill him _since the day they'd met in high school, had nearly been responsible for his death not long ago, was sitting right in front of him, and he didn't sound resentful at all. Is he that much of an _idiot?_

"I know that, Izaya." Shizuo's voice surprised him, the tone gentle, and nearly tender. "I forgive you." The coils tightened even further, crawling upwards into his throat and clumping together to form a lump. Each of the barbs pricked at the edges of the inner flesh, drawing more tears to the edges of his vision. Shizu- chan . . . forgave him? He lowered his gaze, feeling the tears trace down his cheeks.

"Why?" His only reply was the sensation of someone tugging his sleeve and then falling forward onto warm, mildly scratchy sheets.

"Shizu-" He couldn't finish his sentence, because in the next moment, Shizuo pulled him forward again until he was lying next to the blond, wrapped in his embrace.

"You really should have realized by now. Because I noticed it a while ago, even before the accident." Confusion, followed, by denial, then by realization, pulsed through Izaya's body as the ex-bartender's words registered with whatever rationality remained for the moment. The intense pounding of his heart nearly drowned out everything else around him. There was no way that the idiot could have . . .

"You do know, right?" His stupor once again shattered like a pane of glass that had a baseball thrown at it full-force. Say it . . . say that he . . . He swallowed thickly, the tears falling more quickly now as he buried his face into the other man's shoulder.

"You . . . love me . . ?" He murmured as softly as possible, a mixture of terror and anticipation coursing through him. Against all odds, he hoped that it would be the truth.

"Yeah." Every doubt melted into relieved euphoria, and he couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound trembling with suppressed sobs.

"Hey, Izaya." Shizuo placed both his hands on the informant's cheeks, turning him so their eyes met. His thumb brushed the trail of tears away from the skin just before he brought the informant's lips to his own. Crimson eyes widened slightly, but before he could properly react, Shizuo drew away again, smiling with the same tenderness the kiss had held.

"Don't cry." The informant didn't respond, he only pressed himself closer to the man, feeling the drowsiness sinking into his subconscious. Before he fell asleep, he murmured drowsily.

"Are you gonna actually say it, Shizu-chan?" He felt the blond smile before he placed a tender kiss on his temple.

"I love you." He chuckled under his breath, bringing his arms around the smaller man. "Now it's your turn."

Izaya's crimson eyes slid shut, but before sleep overtook him, he whispered back to the man.

"I love you, Shizu-chan." A small smile danced at his lips. Those four words made him so happy. Why had he never said them before?

"I love you."

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**I think . . . this may be the final chapter. I'm sorry to those who like this story but FEAR NOT! I MIGHT make a sequel if I feel up to it. **

**So, anyway, that about does it for Enough to Love You! Hope you all enjoyed!**

**Constructive criticism is welcome, flames will be used to make s'mores.**

**bye!**


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